The Burden of Duty
by KnightOfNevermore
Summary: 16 is the age when you sneak out in the middle of night and crash your first car. Not when you have arrange your parents funeral; take care of your hysterical ten-year-old sister, and deal with social workers. And it had only just begun.


**A/N:** Time for some Chris loving, cause there ain't enough out there. Enjoy~

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16 is the age when you go out and party, sneak out in the middle of night, crash your first car, make out under the bleachers, stress out over homework, and have dreams about that-blond-chick-who-sits-across-from-you-in-math-that-has-black-lacey-underwaer-that-you-totally-didn't-drool-over.

Not having to arrange your parents funeral; take care of your hysterical ten-year-old sister, deal with social workers and law proceedings; wills and the prospect of foster homes, the idea of being _separated_ from your sister, having to be _brave_ and _strong_ so she will have something to rely on, something that will always stay the same; and the pressure is so suffocating that you can't even _breathe_.

25 is the age where the world finally becomes yours; where you seek out your first home and bathe is dream of marrying your first love, when you are fresh out of college and searching for your dream job, when you are finally free to do what you want and the maturity to be able to do so.

Not to have your teammates slaughtered before your eyes; your drinking buddy ripped to shreds by monster dogs and your father figure from the force turned on you; your captain, teammate, and maybe even almost friend betray you and place a gun to your head; your way of life and shakily regained normality shattered, deemed insane and a liar by the public, drunk and paranoid in your private life, the whispers slowing tilting you over the edge until you can't even _hear_.

33 is the age where your life finally begins to settle down, when you have your first kid leaves your arms and enters the world of education and begins their new life, when the a growing family is the hope of the future and a steady companion and job is all the normalcy your life needs.

Not when your anchor, your life, the only thing keeping you sane is ripped away from you by the very man who destroyed the fragile peace you worked so hard to maintain eight years ago; when your life turn to mindless training, your own thought of work, of training of any distraction to keep from remembering what used to occupy the now empty space beside you, from _thinking_.

36 is an age not so different from 33, you still live in your young but expanding family, still work at that boring monotonous job, still come home to a cooking wife and a gurgling baby, still go sleep beside her warm form and the routine starts all over again the next day.

Not for Chris Redfield.

Not when suddenly she is there again, standing there, right in front of you, breathing and moving, not some empty grave with wilting flowers or faded photo.

Not when your little sister has a sparkling ring on her finger and her arms around some blonde kid that you will never approve, that is too cocky, too smart, too official, too there.

Chris can breathe again.

Not when you are surrounded by chatting and laughing people, some old and some new, all becoming fast friends and making bonds, shared pain through shared experiencing bonds them all and fastens them all together in one close-knit family that could never truly be ripped apart.

Chris can hear again.

Not when you are staring at her, the woman who was always there, in body or in spirit, from their brutal fights to quiet meaningless whispers of broken people in search of love, and suddenly you are swallowed by soaring emotions and your mind flooded with memories of bitter and sweet times.

Chris can think again.

And he does, mind flooded with thought and emotions, _that bastard better watch where his hand is traveling our I swear to god I will- Wait, when the hell did Becca get a hair cut?- Holy shit why does that stain on the carpet look so much like a Hunter? - Actually, more like Wesker- Great now I'm delusional- God, how could anyone be so beautiful- lets hope Barry didn't see that, he'd throw a fit-I wonder if Jill will notice if I take another piece of that pie, okay never mind I guess she will- _

Chris Redfield has had many homes.

One shattered by the death of his parents and the premature burden of his guardianship of his sister.

One in the form of a picture of twelve smiling people, unaware of the future to come, now ashes in the great expanse that was once called Raccoon City.

One in the form of an empty apartment and a fridge full of beer, and a lumpy couch more preferable to a cold bed.

But this new home, filled with many new faces, some that he liked more than others, all laughing and smiles despite their blood soaked and tear ridden past, all together and enjoying life and enjoying it now, instead of drowning in their pasts is by far Chris Redfield's favorite home and he will do whatever it takes to protect it.

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**A/N2:** Author apologizes for fail!ending!fail. D: I tried and failed miserably. Meh, I went with S.D. Perry's version of the Redfield's parents, but my head!canon is something along the line of an abusive father and a car crash thingermajig. But whateves. Eh, I started this out as a Cleon thing for my fail!drabble series, with Chris being able to relax because he knows Claire is in good hands, but then I when into ChrisRedfieldisAwesome!Mode and wrote a totally Chris centric story. I hope you liked it, despite it fumbling for a plot and bad characterization. Reviews are wonderful and are the best present you could ever give me, so please review. Happy 2011!


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